'May I ask what you are referring to?'
'Ye never said ye was sorry to leave me; yer letters wasna like ye, an' I didna ken what to think. An' then the cocoa-nut fairly put the lid on. I tell ye, a chap has to dae something when a girl treats him like that.'
'Has he?'
He winced. 'But I forgive ye——'
'Thanks!'
'—because I'm gaun to tell ye a' aboot it, Christina, an' ask ye kindly to forgive me. Ay, I'm gaun to tell ye everything—everything! But I canna think,' he blundered on, 'I'm sayin', I canna think hoo I happened to get yer monkey up to begin wi'——'
'Excuse me!' she cried, indignant. 'My monkey up, indeed!'
'Weel, maybe it wasna exac'ly yer monkey up; but I want to ken what way ye didna write a nicer letter afore ye gaed awa'. Nae doobt ye was in a hurry, but it jist seemed as if ye didna care a button for me. Maybe ma letter to you wasna the thing, either, but I was that hurt when I wrote it, an' ye might ha'e understood hoo I was feelin'. Christina, tell me what was wrang that ye gaed awa' like yon. Was ye—was ye fed up wi' me?'
Christina took up a pencil and began to spoil it with a patent sharpener. 'Really, it is not worth while discussing,' she said.
'What? No worth while? Oh, hoo can ye say a thing like that! . . . But maybe I best tell ye ma ain story first.'